Great Train Crimes: Murder and Robbery on the Railways

by Oates, Jonathan

  On the night of 23 August, Alcott found himself in Aldershot police station. Superintendent Roberts was on hand to question him. Alcott was all too ready to talk about what he had done. He said he had been in Hampshire for three days and told them he had thrown his knife away. He added, ‘It was obvious you would get me. We had quite a struggle and I left my fingerprints on the desk, I was going to France on holiday, I didn’t really want the money, I had my own money.’ He then began at the beginning. His holidays had begun on Monday 18 August. He had collected his wages from the Hither Green depot in South-East London.

  Then he had taken a train to Farnborough to see the masters at his old school. On that night he stayed at the Commercial Hotel, Aldershot. On Tuesday and Wednesday nights he stayed at a shelter at Clapham South, before returning to The Commercial on Thursday night. He had spent each day in Aldershot and Farnborough, calling at Ash Vale for news of Turner, as has been related, though the man had actually been injured by Alcott, accidentally.

  The climax came on the Friday night. Alcott explained it thus:

  On the Friday night the 22nd August, having had no definite news as to Turner’s condition, I kept thinking about his injuries. I was talking and joking with the booking clerk who I know as Dixie [Dean]. Dixie had some trouble with his books and his cash which was about £10 over. I had a sheath knife in the back pocket of my trousers. As I was talking to Dixie, I again visualised the injuries of fitter Turner. As from then I took out my knife from my pocket and attacked Dixie by stabbing him. He struggled and kicked at me and shouted for Paddy the porter, but I just stabbed him one after another. He stopped kicking at me and just slumped down.

  Whilst Dean was dying, Alcott picked up the money and put it either into his pockets or into the cash bags in the mackintosh behind the door. He then picked up his knife, left the office, slammed the door and ran down the steps and out by the main entrance. He crossed the road and washed his hands in a stream. Alcott took a bus to Aldershot. There he dropped the cash bags and the mackintosh into a back garden. The rest is already known to the reader.

  Alcott was formally charged at the magistrates’ Occasional Court at Farnham on 25 August and was remanded in custody for a week.

  Dean’s funeral took place on the afternoon of 29 August. Mr Cook, chairman of the parish council, began a fund for Dean’s widow. In addition to this, at least she was able to inherit £685 15s 11d, which her thrifty husband had been able to save during his short life.

  Alcott was tried at the Surrey Assizes on 18 November, held at Kingston upon Thames. His defence put forward a plea of insanity, but this was rejected. He was found guilty and was sentenced to hang. There was an appeal, based on the fact that the jury had not been offered the verdict, ‘Guilty, but insane’. However, on 17 December this was turned down, the Lord Chief Justice stating, ‘I dare say the appellant is abnormal . . . but there is not the least ground for saying that there is any issue of insanity’. Alcott was duly hanged on 2 January 1952.

  It is uncertain why Alcott killed Dean. Presumably it was due to his need for money, but this was never stated definitively. Alcott was clearly a very dangerous young man, having killed already in Germany and unfortunately having been discharged. At least he was not given another chance to do so.

  17

  The Difficult Passenger’s End, 1962

  ‘I stood up and pointed the gun at him, thinking he would realize

  it was a gun and be frightened.’

  Travelling by train usually means spending time with people one would not normally be with, and from whom, for a temporary period, there is no escape. Fellow passengers can be, and often are, annoying. Those listening to ipods and other noisy devices, and of course, those using mobile phones, can be highly irritating. Occasionally a fellow passenger may remonstrate with them, but mostly the response is to seethe in silence. It is certainly rare that the annoying passenger is killed. But that is exactly what happened on a train in September 1962.

  The Glasgow to London express left the Scottish city at 10.25 pm as usual. It was 29 September 1962. In the fourth compartment from the front of the train were Miss Helen Lewis, aged 23, of Bermondsey, her sister-in-law, Mrs Eileen Lewis, and David Anthony McKay, a thermal engineer of Altmore Avenue, East Ham, who was aged 28. McKay had politely asked if he could share the compartment with them. At Kilmarnock they were joined by Mr Francis Lennon, a 53-year-old train examiner, and Katherine, his wife, aged 42. These two lived at Kerrimuir Avenue, Hurlsford, Ayrshire. They all settled down quietly to get what rest they could. That peace was to be rudely interrupted.

  The train was approaching Carlisle. It was then that Thomas McBain, a 20-year-old rock ’n’ roll singer (known as ‘Big Tom’), entered He was an apprentice engineer from Glendevo Square, Ruchazie, Glasgow. He was carrying a bottle of wine, some glasses and some cans of beer. McBain took a vacant seat. It was soon obvious that he had already been drinking. He acted in an uncouth manner. When the train was between Carlisle and Penrith, near Wreay, McKay and McBain began to quarrel. The argument turned violent as both young men rose to their feet. Two shots rang out. Confusion reigned. Meanwhile the communication cord was pulled in the next compartment. It was 2 am.

  Dr John Laing of Aberdeen was in the next compartment and came next door. He saw what had resulted and wondered whether a knife or a gun had been used. McKay gave him a version of events. He admitted to shooting McBain, and then said that he had thrown the revolver out of the window. The gun, he said, he had taken from McBain’s pockets. He later recalled that McKay had blood on his face and on his shirt; whilst McBain was lying, groaning, on the floor. Laing was with McBain when he died, but he did not tell McKay this news until later and McKay resented being kept in the dark about this.

  The train stopped at Wreay and then carried on its journey to Penrith, where it halted. The carriage on which the shooting took place was uncoupled and put into a siding under police guard. Everyone on the train had their names and addresses taken. Thirty-six people, including a young honeymoon couple, were questioned. The train was only allowed to carry on with its journey to London at 6.40 am.

  McKay was arrested at 3.45 am and told the police, ‘I did not mean to shoot the bloke.’ He was brought before a special court hearing at Mansion House, Penrith, on the day of the shooting. He was charged with murder. It all lasted only 90 seconds and he was then remanded in custody. He kept being thus remanded on another five occasions, each for a week. John Joseph McBain, the victim’s brother, was found and he came down to identify the corpse. A post mortem indicated that his brother died of a haemorrhage and shock at having two bullets fired into him; one to the chest and one to the abdomen. Either one would have killed him. The gun was also found near to the railway line; it was a small automatic .25 Browning pistol.

  There was an initial hearing at a magistrates’ court on 1 November. Mr Guthrie Jones, defending McKay, saw the question of the ownership of the revolver as important. McKay insisted the gun had belonged to McBain and he said:

  I saw the gun in his pocket and I managed to get hold of it. In the struggle it went off. I dropped it out of the window because he kept coming for me . . . I told him ‘I’ve got what you think you have got’. He turned to me on the seat so I jumped to my feet and took the gun out of my waistband and pointed it towards him. He was still sitting down. He made as if to make a swipe and my gun went off. I don’t know if it hit him. He went forward on the seat and then back. He was groaning. I said ‘I think I had better get out of here’. He got up on his feet. I still had the gun in my hand and was trying to put my jacket on with the other hand. He tried to jump me. As he closed with me I pressed the trigger again. I had just about forgotten I had it in my hand. I fell onto the seat where the girls had been and he came down on top of me. I managed to stretch my hand up and threw the gun out of the ventilation window.

  Yet it seems that McBain could not have been the possessor of a gun. His trouser pockets had large holes in them and a smal
l pistol like the Browning would have fallen through them. Furthermore, a Mr Walker in Glasgow recalled being told there by McKay that he had a gun. McKay’s story was thus a pack of lies.

  The case came before the Cumberland Assizes at Carlisle on 15 January 1963. McKay pleaded not guilty to murder. Many more details emerged about what happened that night and also about the principal participants. First, McBain, ‘Big Tom’ as he was known to his intimates, had been drinking at the Tavern Bar, Glasgow, prior to boarding the train. He had had the equivalent of seven pints or fourteen single whiskies. John McClure, the sleeping car attendant, saw McBain after the latter entered the train. He knew McBain and did not think he was drunk nor quarrelsome. However, this seems to have been incorrect, according to other witnesses. Perhaps McBain had a few more drinks on the train itself.

  The first compartment which McBain entered was the one occupied by Dr Laing among others. McBain also invited a friend into the compartment, too. Dr Laing commented, ‘He was certainly drunk and a little belligerent and I said to someone in the compartment that I would not be surprised if we had some trouble from this fellow during the journey.’ As the train travelled southward, McBain decided to go into the compartment next door.

  He rattled on the door and saw there was a vacant seat. He took it. Mrs Lewis had been sleeping and she now awoke. McBain’s eyes were half closed and his speech was slurred. He sat between McKay and Lennon; the three women were sitting opposite. McBain put his feet up on the seat opposite and asked Mrs Lennon if she minded. She said not. McKay, however, did, and told McBain that he did. McBain replied that he had paid his rail fare, so he was within his rights to put his feet where he liked. But he desisted shortly afterwards.

  Once the train had passed Carlisle, Mrs Lewis reached for a cigarette. McBain put his feet on the seat opposite again. They hit her arm and dirtied her clothes whilst she was lighting up and she remonstrated with him, ‘You should watch where you put your feet.’ McKay spoke out against McBain, too, saying, ‘You are not allowed to put your feet up there. After all, look what you did to the girl’s cardigan.’ McBain lit a cigarette, had second thoughts and flung it towards the ventilator. However, it bounced back and hit Mrs Lewis, who retorted, ‘For crying out loud’. McBain apologised and said he hadn’t meant to do it. Mrs Lewis accepted his apology and told him to forget it. ‘I don’t want to forget it’ he replied. He asked the others why he couldn’t put his feet up on the seat.

  McKay rose to the challenge again, saying, ‘You are not allowed, so let’s forget it, and have a bit of peace and quiet.’ McBain countered, ‘You shut up or I’ll make you get peace and quiet for the rest of the journey.’ Both men were fully aroused to do battle. They stood up and squared off.

  McKay then gave another version of events to that he had given previously:

  I got the impression that the other people in the compartment were scared of McBain and I thought I would have to persuade him to get out of the carriage to get some quiet. I stood up and pointed the gun at him, thinking he would realise it was a gun and be frightened. But he did not say anything and he was trying to hit the gun out of my hand. As he did so, I squeezed the gun to make sure if he did knock it, my hand would only swing away. I had no idea there was a shell in it. I was quite shocked.

  Mrs Lewis then recalled, ‘I saw McBain had staggered back to his seat. And McKay standing with a small gun in his hand.’ At first she had thought that the small metallic object in McKay’s had was a cigarette lighter. McBain clutched his side where he had been shot and lay back on his seat, smiling at McKay. Mrs Lewis fled the compartment. Miss Lewis pulled the communication cord in the next compartment. Mrs Lewis said that she had not seen the gun beforehand, thought that McBain was being objectionable and that McKay was being considerate in his behaviour hitherto.

  Other facts emerged about McKay. He had had a previous conviction for possession of a firearm without a licence. In his flat was a small gun holster and various shooting magazines. There were a few spare bullets there and these exactly matched those which had been fired into McBain. There was no doubt that the gun used to kill McBain was McKay’s.

  Mr Cantley QC of the prosecution told him, ‘You are entitled to take reasonable measures in your self defence, but not to shoot an unarmed man even if you think he might inflict some minor violence to you.’ He then outlined the events of that fatal night. However, counsel for the defence said that McKay had been provoked and fired in self-defence. On the following day McKay was found guilty of manslaughter and was sentenced to four years in gaol. The interesting question to ask is why McKay was carrying a loaded gun in the first place. He had had no prior intention of shooting McBain, nor anyone else as far as is known. Clearly he had a fascination for firearms and this was to prove his undoing.

  18

  Throat Cutting on a Slow Train, 1964

  ‘it was a very brutal murder, a completely motiveless attack

  on this young girl for no reason’

  Michael Szczup was 12 years old and a train spotter from Bracknell. He and three friends had spent Monday 29 June 1964 at Basingstoke station, noting down the trains which arrived at that busy station. Yet it is what happened afterwards that would prove more memorable. He later described the first stage of what should have been his return voyage:

  We intended to return home by the 4.17 Basingstoke–Reading train. As soon as that train came in we got into the second class compartment in the first coach. Immediately the train left the station I went into the toilet compartment at the front end of the coach. When I opened the door of the toilet compartment I saw the legs of a lady on the floor. There was blood on the floor. I rushed into the coach and called out about what I had seen.

  Paul Ramshir, a London chemist, had also seen what Szczup had and he had pulled the communication cord. Szczup jumped off the train, which had just left the station, and went to find a porter. After he had told him what had happened, he and his friends took the 4.37 train to Reading. The murder carriage was put into a siding.

  The corpse was that of a teenage girl, dressed in her school uniform. Her throat was cut. Although at first it was wondered whether this was a case of suicide, such impressions were short-lived. PS Douglas Boekee was one of the first police officers on the scene and related:

  There was a lot of blood on the floor which appeared to come from a severe wound in the throat. Her dress and jacket did not seem to be disturbed but I later saw that her stockings were badly laddered.

  There were a number of clues in the compartment. There were pieces of broken glass near the body. Although fully clothed, the victim’s shoes and beret were missing. In the compartment itself was a torn envelope addressed to ‘David Manders, C3’. The address was missing. Inside were torn pieces of a birthday card, with the following message, ‘To David, with love from Barbara and John’. Behind a seat was a brown carrier bag. In this was a cucumber and lettuce roll and a partly eaten packet of crisps. There was also a paper wrapper of a loaf, ‘Midland Maid Farmhouse Bread’. This was only made in the Midlands.

  What were the events leading up to this dreadful event? It had begun at Southampton station at 3.25. Yvonne Laker, a 15-year-old schoolgirl, was dark haired and shy. Her parents lived in Singapore, where her father, Peter, was a sergeant in the RAF. She had just spent the weekend with her grandparents, Major and Mrs Cyril Laker, in Burton on Sea and was about to return to her convent school in Maidenhead. They had taken a photograph of her before seeing her off at the station, for her father’s benefit. She sat in the second class compartment of the first of three coaches on the train. Major Laker recalled, ‘I recall no one being in the compartment but her when the train pulled out.’ It was an open Pullman carriage, that is to say, it was a carriage with seats, but without partitions and there was no access to any other carriage.

  The first stop on the train’s journey was at Eastleigh. It was here that Peter Barnes, a recent graduate, and two friends, got on the train. He remembered seeing her and
recalled, ‘As far as I know no one sat besides her during the journey nor did I hear anyone speaking to her.’ The second was at Winchester at 3.58, where Barnes and his friends alighted. The next was at Micheldever at 4.08. Just before the next stop, the train slowed down considerably. Then Basingstoke was reached at 4.22 and by then the murder had been done.

  Detective Chief Superintendent Walter Jones of the Hampshire CID was in charge of the murder hunt. He had 70 detectives from Hampshire and Berkshire under him. A large blue mobile police headquarters was set up outside Basingstoke station. He stated at a press conference on the Monday of the murder, ‘This appears to be the work of a maniac. As far as I can ascertain it was a very brutal murder, a completely motiveless attack on this young girl for no reason. There is no question of sexual assault or theft.’ The chief constable was afraid the killer would strike again and urged Jones, ‘Find this killer – quickly’.

  Jones made a start. Forty of the train’s passengers were interviewed. Tracker dogs found Yvonne’s brown shoes and beret near the track between Micheldever and Basingstoke. A few pieces of green glass – the same sort which had been found on the train – were also found. These were pieced together and were found to almost make up a complete bottle. It was a half-size Cuesta sherry bottle. Jones made appeals for anyone who had seen anything relevant to come forward. He tried to locate the David Manders whose name was on the torn envelope. He also thought the label on the bread packaging was important and said, ‘We are making enquiries in the Midlands to try and trace its origin, but we would like any of the train’s passengers who saw this bag or the man who carried it, to come forward.’